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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28349523">Cover Up</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheShinySword/pseuds/TheShinySword'>TheShinySword</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>BanG Dream! (Anime), BanG Dream! Girl's Band Party! (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F, Rated T for Masuki's filthy mouth, Soulmate AU, Tattoo Shop AU, They/them Moca as a treat, lots of AUs, uhh also Punk AU</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 20:42:57</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,334</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28349523</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheShinySword/pseuds/TheShinySword</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Masuki's used to doing all sorts of tattoos but this one? This one is something different.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aoba Moca/Shirasagi Chisato, Imai Lisa/Satou Masuki/Wakana Rei</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>48</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Cover Up</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Masuki’s arm itched. The right one—Lisa’s arm, deemed such for no other reason than she really liked to hold that hand—right along the thick black lines with a little soul slick sheen running straight from her blue-green veins to the underside of her elbows. Masuki used to insist it was a music staff, made sense after all. Rei was her soulmate, they met playing in the same punk bar. ‘Course a staff has five lines not four. Then they met Lisa and it was clear why Masuki had a set of four black on both her arms.</p><p>Two marks. Two partners. Two bassists. Four strings.</p><p>So the right hand was for Lisa and the left hand was for Rei. It was a bit unusual to have two soulmates but not totally unheard of—made the double soulmark make more sense too. All in all, Masuki couldn’t really complain. She had her destiny selected partners, a little drumming on the weekends and a cozy position in her own tattoo parlor—funded by that weird little rich twerp who used to sneak into their shows and bully Masuki into buying her beer. Nothing too bad about it, ‘cept the itching, but she just assumed that meant Lisa and Rei were smooching without her. Not a bad thing to think about when she was bumming around her tattoo chair waiting for the walk-in clients she had specifically asked Pareo not to let in.</p><p>Sometimes she did walk-ins, sometimes she napped. Luckily, Masuki had Pareo, the best damn receptionist anyone could have—always smiling even when she was using those gazelle legs of hers to chase down a client trying to skip out on the final bill—and Pareo was an expert at turning people away.</p><p>“Masuki!” Pareo invaded Masuki’s sanctuary, pink and blue pigtails poking out of the dingy red curtain covering the threshold just before her body. “You have a client!”</p><p>At least usually.</p><p>She pushed up in the just about busted chair—terrible for making art but excellent for naps—and glowered. “It’s Tuesday.”</p><p>Pareo shrugged, cheerful as ever. “They know Tomoe?” She offered as explanation.</p><p>Well, that was a name Masuki would get up for. Old drummer friend and ramen slurping buddy. If Tomoe sent someone Masuki’s way they were probably worth the effort. She cracked her neck and slid gracelessly out of her chair. “Alright, alright. I’ll see ‘em.”</p><p>“Great!” Pareo clapped her hands together and disappeared.</p><p>A few moments later the curtain parted again. This time two people stepped through. To Masuki’s surprise she recognized both, though not in any meaningful way. The taller one—though still tiny by Masuki’s standards—used to run with Tomoe, probably still did even though they’d all left behind their shitty bands playing shitty clubs. Scruffy with the sort of put on lazy expression that tried to hide how they—Masuki was pretty sure it was ‘they’—were sizing up every person they met. Name like a coffee. Espresso? Cappuccino? Moca. That was it.</p><p>Made some sense that they were there, Moca fit the atmosphere—all the skeletons dotting the walls (popular with the goths who loved tattoos) could be their cousins—but Masuki had no fucking idea what an aged out child star was doing right next to them.</p><p>Chisato Shirasagi. Definitely didn’t belong in her shop, probably didn’t belong anywhere from the preemptively defensive look in her eyes. Too blonde, too pretty and definitely lacking any ink except the bit she was born with. Soulmarks were hardly the same as tattoos though. Much harder to get rid of—not that anyone with half a brain would ever try.</p><p>Probably rich though and Masuki had two partners she loved to spoil.</p><p>Masuki held out her arms and grinned, “Howdy. Moca right?”</p><p>“The one and only.” Moca copied down to the lopsided smile. Their eyes flicked to the woman at their side. “This is…”</p><p>“Chisato Shirasagi.” The actress offered her hand. “Moca’s partner.”</p><p>Years of hearing a lot of crazy shit in this very room kept Masuki’s eyebrows in place instead of bursting off her face. She took Chisato’s hand as smooth as expected. “Masuki Satou, friend of a friend.” Masuki’s attention turned back to Moca, more her sort of person. “What can I do for you today?”</p><p>Moca chuckled. “Just looking for a little cover up, nothing too fancy.”</p><p>Code for ‘I made a drunken mistake and would give anything to have this stupid thing covered up.’ Masuki nodded to Chisato. “What about Miss Hollywood over here?”</p><p>“Moral support.” Chisato sounded just like she did on TV—scripted.</p><p>Masuki shrugged. Whatever. All types. “Come on over, I’ll take a look.”</p><p>Moca started to unbutton her shirt at once.</p><p>“Hey let me get to know you better first.” The tattoo artist laughed with a tease in her voice. One of those stock jokes to make a new client comfortable.</p><p>Moca winked. “I’ll buy you dinner later if you like.”</p><p>“Wrong order.”</p><p>“More fun though~.”</p><p>Chisato coughed lightly. “The tattoo?”</p><p>“Heh,” Moca leaned in to their partner, close enough to kiss but not quite crossing the gap. “Just a little foreplay before the main event.” Deftly, they picked down the rest of their buttons and slowly straddled Masuki’s chair. “Left shoulder.”</p><p>Masuki pulled up their stool and plopped down, ready to take a look at what they had to work with. A proper cover up might take a couple sessions, better to treat this walk in like a first session than get their hopes up over finishing in one go. Masuki inspected what they had to work with and immediately pulled back.</p><p>“Who’d you piss off to get this tattooed on ya?”</p><p>It wasn’t the dumbest thing a client had ever asked Masuki to cover up but it was one of the shoddiest.</p><p>“Tomoe.”</p><p>Ah. Masuki made note to mock the hell out of Tomoe’s artistic sensibilities next time they went for ramen. Ostensibly it was a loaf of bread. Or maybe a melon bun? Masuki really couldn’t be sure, Tomoe probably stick and poked the thing when both of them were drunk off their asses. The thick lines—made by dozens of dots Moca would have had to be very, <em>very </em>drunk not to feel—obscured the image into more of a blob than a tattoo.</p><p>Masuki held back a chuckle. “You know what you want to cover this up?”</p><p>“How about a skull? Or a big heart that says mom?” Moca looked over their shoulder with a waggle of their eyebrows—their joke meant for Chisato rather than Masuki.</p><p>“Absolutely not.” Chisato cracked her very first smile under Masuki’s roof.</p><p>The tension eased out of the air around them. It was just another job now—little weird to have an audience but there weren’t many firsts left for Masuki. Pretty soon she would be able to focus wholly on her art. First, she’d inspect her canvass. The shoddy job was very clear, but there was something underneath it. A little shimmer to the skin. Wait…</p><p>Masuki squinted then lifted up Moca’s arm, peering over every inch of skin on Moca’s shoulder. She scowled. It was faint, mostly covered by shit art, but there.</p><p>“N-Nothing interesting on my arm.” Moca stuttered, trying in vain to pull their arm from Masuki’s grasp.</p><p>“Won’t do it,” the tattoo artist dropped Moca’s arm with an unceremonious grunt. It fell and swung like a busted old handle. “That’s your soulmark. Won’t cover it up. Coverin’ up soulmarks is nothin’ but trouble. People think they want it—think the system is wrong and they’ll looove their partner forever. Then they meet their soulmate and I’m the one dealing with angry former customers tryin’ ta pound down my door!” Masuki’s mind drifted to the bitter thespian she covered up three separate times, each time professing it would be the last. It didn’t end in legal action but there were always stories.</p><p>“Masuki, please.” Moca didn’t seem like the begging sort but they wereon the edge.</p><p>“No way. The liability is nuts. It’s not worth it to cover up for kids trying to settle for one another—”</p><p>“Miss Satou, we don’t know.” Chisato’s voice was a crisp, cool slap across her cheek.</p><p>“You don’t know?” Her eyes narrowed as she looked from Chisato to Moca, confirming the story in both of their faces. Damn her head hurt. Masuki squeezed her eyes shut. “How can you not know? Every kid’s got theirs memorized.”</p><p>“We didn’t.” Chisato began to unbutton her shirt.</p><p>“Baby,” Moca rose quickly, darting to Chisato’s side with their shirt swaying.“You don’t have to—”</p><p>“Hush Moca. It’s easier to show than explain.”</p><p>Masuki watched Chisato remove her shirt—trying politely not to stare at the drop dead gorgeous woman stripping in her work place and failing completely. Not entirely certain what Chisato sees in the scrub but nobody’s perfect. Chisato turned around and started to slip her blouse off her shoulder. “Come on, just ‘cause it’s on your back? What you never tried to look in the mirror? Had someone take a pic? Describe it to yo—fuck.” Masuki jolted up in her chair. “Who did that to you?”</p><p>Chisato’s shoulder was a shiny pink blur of skin pulled tight and twisted right over the blade. A burn scar, no doubt. And in the midst of the scarred flesh, faint but clearly visible, the tell tale eerie smoothness of a soulmark. As soon as she’d decided Masuki got a good enough look, Chisato pulled the shirt back over the scar and swiftly did the buttons back up. “I did. When I was young.” She hugged her chest for a moment, a memory of flames flickering in her eyes. “I don’t regret it.”</p><p>“But…”</p><p>“But you can see that the damned thing is coming back.” Her thumb poked through one of the button holes. “I never wanted it and once I met Moca…”</p><p>“Never really looked at mine either.” Moca tapped their shoulder where the bun lurked. “Same place but you never know. And we don’t want to know. Tomoe helped out the first time but… same thing. Persistent little assholes. ”</p><p>“You could match,” Masuki shrugged, daring with her voice. “I could find out right now.”</p><p>Moca and Chisato’s hands found their way together. Moca bit their lip. “No. If it doesn’t match we’ll spend our whole lives wondering and if it does…”</p><p>“…It takes away the choice,” Chisato finished.</p><p>“The choice?”</p><p>“Love.” Chisato said bluntly. “Love is a choice, not destiny. I love Moca because I choose Moca.”</p><p>Moca sniffed, “And I love Chisato because she is very hot.”</p><p>Chisato laughed briefly and shoved her partner with a bit more force than necessary. When the swaying ended they fell together again, a sort of natural magnetism.</p><p>“Alright.” It was stupid, very stupid, to fulfill their wish but something about their conviction struck at Masuki’s heart, made her think of her own partners. “I’ll do it. On one condition.” She leveled her middle finger at Chisato’s forehead. “You got to get the same one too goregous.”</p><p>Chisato’s eyebrows raised. “Me?”</p><p>“You. Don’t think you can get roles with a roll on your shoulder? Tough titties, have fun finding out what your destiny really is.” It was a bluff and the second they called Masuki out on it she’d crumble like the soft hearted paper doll she was.</p><p>But she didn’t. “Okay. Everyone else in the world matches the person they love—” Chisato’s eyes fell to Masuki’s crossed arms—“or people. Why not us? In our way.”</p><p>If that’s what the client wanted. “Alright.” Masuki smiled. “Let’s get started.” Then that was what the client got.</p><p>A few hours later, after much discussion and a small bit of base work on a dragon with a melon bun set of scales for their agreed upon design, Masuki’s new favorite clients left her with a healthy tip and a soul deep excitement for their next appointment. They were odd, but rarely did Masuki see people so strangely well suited for each other. Made her think of her partners—if that was vain Masuki didn’t really give a shit.</p><p>Made her think a lot of her partners. Before she knew it, Masuki was dialing up Lisa, hoping she hadn’t left for her late shift at the diner yet.</p><p>The line clicked. Masuki spoke before Lisa had a chance to say hi. “Hey.”</p><p>“What’s up?” Lisa’s voice crackled on the other side of the line.</p><p>“Rei there too?”</p><p>A click. “Right here Masuki,” Rei’s warm even tone joined Lisa. “Is something wrong?”</p><p>“Nah, nah,” she clicked her tongue and breathed deep. Until she heard their voices, she didn’t realize what she needed to say. “Just thinking. Just wanted to say… I’d choose you two. Ya know, even without the marks and shit. I’d choose you two.”</p><p>Lisa laughed, soft without mirth, “Did you just finish another one of your romance novels?”</p><p>“Do I need an excuse to be sentimental?”</p><p>“Of course you don’t,” Rei soothed. “I’d choose you too, Masking.” A nickname Masuki had thought was cool when she was 17 that just made her nostalgic and homesick nowadays.</p><p>“Don’t leave me out,” The third side to their triangle teased. “I hope you’d be choosing me too.”</p><p>“I’m sorry Lisa, I didn’t mean to,” Rei said, concerned.</p><p>“I was just teasing but now I feel guilty.”</p><p>Masuki cackled, deep and bawdy. “You two want something special for dinner? I’ll pick up.”</p><p>“Hmm, how about a nice loaf of bread? I could make some pasta.”</p><p>“…maybe not bread.” Masuki chuckled low. “Aww, unless you really want.”</p><p>And they talked and Masuki made small promises about food and coming home and the things they would do when they had a shared free day, the sort of things they would never ever share with anyone outside their trinity. And Masuki was really sure, truly sure, that she was the luckiest damn person in the world. Destiny or not.</p><p> </p>
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